


Tendaji’s Bastards (Prologue)

by Sidka_Fear



Category: Original Work
Genre: Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidka_Fear/pseuds/Sidka_Fear
Summary: Progenitor Lore





	Tendaji’s Bastards (Prologue)

Permit me to tell you of a man I know of. He dwells at the bottom of the ocean, so very cold and dark, often in a deep deep sleep. 

In his dreams he remembers a boy beloved by his family for his cleverness, and in his community whispers ran on eager legs through the warm streets whenever it was rumored the boy had finished one of his inventions. Sometimes what he constructed eased the burdens of those around him. At other times, his creations would rise as would any creature of life, and how the other children would join these apparitions in dance and song. The boy was miraculously clever, truly blessed, and his family loved him dearly. 

One hot day, amid one such celebration of movement around a mechanically capering creature, the boy dropped heavy to the ground as if he was but one of his own creations that had wound down. His family and many of his community gave all they could to quickly spirit the boy to the nearest town and begged the doctors to save him. The clever boy did not die, but his heart, the doctors said, would soon stop. The boy would need another if he was to live, yet his family could not afford such a ransom.

A man heard the family calling out in their grief. His skin gleamed as if rubbed with wood oil, and he exclaimed loudly to the family at how he has heard of this clever boy. How could one with ears not hear? For have not the very birds soared afar to speak of how the laws of the universe bend easily in the lad’s small hands? For death to swallow such a talent so young was unthinkable! Untenable! Give this boy to me, the oily man petitioned. For in me your son will find a patron and he will grow to become as a god!

The family of the clever boy knew not hope in the rich man’s words. They knew not relief as they circled their child’s hospital bed and collectively laid their hands upon his faltering heart. For so greatly they loved him, they could not feel these things. 

And so the clever boy was sold.


End file.
